Oh, golly gee, oh golly gee fucking willikers! It’s the Weekend! This is the Open Bar! If you’re reading this, you’re alive! You’ve made it through another week! Or, you’re proof that there’s some sort of thin membrane we cross upon death, only to haunt others from Beyond. That said, welcome! Be you mortal, immortal. Trapped in a perpetual liminal state, or coasting towards death along with me!
Fuck me, fuck me sideways! Where am I? What was I doing?
Oh, oh yeah! Welcoming you to the weekly weekend wanking Open Bar!
Hey! It’s Monday Morning Commute, on a Tuesday! Again! Man, truthfully? There ain’t much going on in my life right now. Just the humming doldrums of the post-Holiday, pre-Spring existence here in the Northeast. It’s cold! That’s whack. It’s getting lighter out earlier and earlier! That’s dope.
And the forthcoming notables?
They’re the various spectacles and testicles-tickling activities helping me make it through the ashen week.
I hope you’ll join me in the comments section, and let me know what you’re looking forward to this week. To be honest, I’m in a bit of a rut. So, I could use anything you can suggest. Hit me. Hit me!
Talking about Bateman’s swollen balls. Like, that’s all I can remember. Talking about his refraining from porn and masturbation, and how swollen his balls must be. Pray for him.
You fucks, you want a little look into my world? Into the sundry happenings, peoples, and animals that populate my existence? Then, good goddamn. You’re in the right place. This is Desktop Thursdays! Your glimpse into my world(s)! And, I hope you’ll share a look into yours in the comments section!
The following installments cover, good god, from November 1 until January 24! I, I gotta be better with these.
Playing DEAD CELLS. Talking SHIT. Ruminating on the staggering homoeroticism that is 300. Bemoaning the Powers That Be covering up Aquaman‘s tits. Other nonsense.
Oh, we in the fucking Teeth of it now, friends.
At least here in the Northeast, and other sundry places currently eating Winter’s Shit. The teeth, you ask? The teeth, I shall explain. We have entered that interminable period after the holidays where it’s all snow, slush, and gloom. There are no holidays to look forward to. And while the days are getting longer once again, it’s hard to appreciate when it’s -13 with the fucking windchill.
Oh, we in the fucking Teeth of it now, friends.
But, at least we have our frivolities, right? And, isn’t that what Monday Morning Commute is all about? Sharing the frivolities we’re looking forward to on a given week, to get us through the grind?
It is, indeed!
I’ll go first.
The finale to our playthrough of The Messenger! Honestly, I’m posting this a week late, so I don’t really fucking remember what went on in it! Check it out! I’m sure it has cheap dick jokes, genuine bro camaraderie, and a sizzlin’ chat.
Hey, fuckers! Did you miss the stream on Saturday night? If so, what the fuck! But, we got you covered here. Jump into the first stream of the new year! We talking boners. We playing The Messenger. We spending too much time debating Black Mirror: Bandersnatch‘s merits, its medium, and other bullshit. Bags is housing tacos. Ian’s talking about taking his pants off. The fuck you waiting for? Let’s go!
The title is some shitty pun on the fact that we got too far to go this Winter, my dudes. Yeah, fuck me with a sideways plank, it’s brutal. But, what do you want out of me? I like Fargo, and I hate the Winter, and I’m just doing my best!
And man, do I fucking hate Winter. I used to stunt and pretend I enjoyed it. Alas, that fucking period has passed. Sure, sure, I enjoy the crisp air. And if the planet stopped melting for a moment to provide the Northeast with some snow, I’d enjoy too. But, what are the Lords currently offering me? Miserable, raw-ass rainy days and darkened evenings.
Anyways, how the fuck you doing? Me? I’m still in this liminal state between semesters. Where theoretically I’m on campus tutoring for the Winter session. However in reality? I’m staring at asses on Tumblr and writing up this wonderful little column.
It could be much, much worse, I admit. Plus, holy jizz cannoli, do I have a lot of things I’m currently enjoying.
Come, come. Follow my over-caffeinated, hunched ass into the dungeon. Check out what I’m sweating this week. Then, oh I implore you, let me know what you’re looking forward to over the next seven slivers of existence.
This is Monday Morning Commute!
How’s it going, friends? Me? I’m about to put a cap on the wonderful age of thirty-five. How was the year? Some good. Some bad. Another year of sucking wind, and another year of having my health. Thus, it’s hard not to feel grateful as I hurdle into the back-end of my thirties tomorrow.
I’m in the best shape of my life. Mentally, physically, and as a teacher. Yet, oh does Entropy ever whisper in my ear. Quietly passing along the irrefutable axiom, “all of this is borrowed.” Eh, what can you do, you know? Spend the time with friends and family, purpose and appreciation.